Illness
by irishcharm123
Summary: Bates is not feeling well - so takes some time out to have some fresh air and think about his new life. Fluff alert! Obvious Anna/Bates pairing. Set some time after ep 8 if things go the way I desire...
1. Chapter 1

This little fic has been playing on my mind for a while now, so I hope you enjoy!  
>p.s – 'Crumbling' will be continued as soon as possible, however my very busy work schedule will not allow me to plot some interesting development into the story at this present time. This fic is set in roughly 1923, a few years after the Bates' have settled down to married life in their little cottage Robert always promised them.<p>

Knifes. That was his first instinct as his eyes flickered open.

It was very late at night – or early in the morning – and Mr Bates lay flat on his back, drenched in a cold sweat. His whole body, his knee in particular, ached as though he had just survived a plummet off a huge cliff, which his landing was sharp knives. He turned to his side, where he saw Anna sleeping soundly. Even after seeing her sight daily, the image of her sleeping still made his heart ache – which didn't help his current situation.

Groaning, he slowly manoeuvred off their bed, and stood up. His head suddenly blurred, sharp pulses racing through his skull almost bringing him to his knees in pain. Inhaling desperately, he felt for his cane and then shuffled down the small set of stairs into the kitchen.

His cold sweat had been replaced by a blistering temperature. The last time he had been that hot was the time when Anna had revealed to him a daring set of lingerie that Lady Mary had given to her as she had felt rather awkward about passing it on to Edith…

Bates tried to remove the overwhelming image of his wife in the suggestive attire from his mind, and instead tried to focus on the task at hand – he needed some fresh air, and fast.

He stepped out of the porch of his little cottage, his and Anna's little cottage. The cool, crisp air hit him instantly, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. He stepped a few strides outwards, and turned to admire their home.

They had lived there for near enough three years, but already Bates had a lifetime of memories stored in his brain. He remembered as they walked hand in hand through the door that was now slightly ajar, excitement and relief pulsing through his veins as he was released from the ugly clutches of the law and was free to set up a home with his beautiful, head-strong, deserving wife. He remembered how he loved – no, in fact _loves –_ waking up next to her every day, having the ability to wrap a comforting arm around her hips or to be able to kiss her shoulders with passion. Nothing fuelled him for the day more than seeing his freshly awoken wife, a sworn enemy of early mornings, looking like a goddess as she opened her eyes and lifted her head from her pillow.

He remembered their first sorrow, a sorrow which to this day brought tears to his eyes. Anna had been a few months with child, both of them excited for the prospect of their love being made clear to all by both of their flesh and blood combining to make what would be their precious first born. However, no sooner had they began celebrating, Anna awoke one night in complete pain and soaked in blood…she had lost him. Her hysterical expression and the early loss of what would have been his son broke his heart that day, and they both held each other and wept mercilessly. She had been ashamed she was unable to give him a child. He remembered as he sobbed to her that it was just one of those things that happened, and under no account would it weaken their relationship. He became extremely protective of her at work, and as none of their colleagues knew the truth, Bates was quick to fend off any criticism, slander or muttered comments for the next few weeks that passed. He loathed letting her out of his sight, and every time they sat down together he refused to let go of her hand until their duties forced them apart.

He remembered recovering from their ordeal, holding his darling Anna close every night, swearing that he cared the most about _her _welfare and nothing else. He remembered the way she would just want to hold him, but never anything more. However, Anna was a fighter, and the sad, dark feeling in their cottage slowly vanished after a few weeks.

He remembered making love to her for the first time after it happened, how every slow, gentle thrust was his way of showing her that she was his only concern now. She had been scared, and weary, but he made sure that she was happy, and put all of his overwhelming love for her into that night they spent together.

All of those events were in just the first year of their inhabitancy. Although Anna had not fallen pregnant since their loss, two years on she was the same Anna that occupied Downton when he first arrived back in 1912…the same Anna he had fallen in love with.

Re-living his memories, he was brought sharply back into the real world as an icy blast of wind crashed upon him. His body was aching worse than before, but at least his sizzling temperature had subsided. He looked towards the front door to find his wife stood there, leaning casually against its frame and raising one delicate eyebrow.

'John,' she said, partly inquisitive and partly amused. 'Forgive me for being so bold, but do you mind if I ask what you are doing stood outside our house at this time of night in the middle of November?'

Bates smiled as he approached her and halted right outside the door frame she was still leaning on.

'If truth be told, I'm not feeling too great,' Bates said honestly. Since being married to Anna, he had learnt one thing. Whenever he tried to hide any form of pain or discomfort, she saw right through it, so there was never any point in lying about his health.

'So, I'm sure standing outside in near-freezing temperatures helped, did it?' she teased.

'I needed some fresh air and to cool down a bit,' Bates grinned as he defended himself. 'Anyway, I didn't mean to wake you, I was only planning on leaving you for a few minutes but my mind went elsewhere.'

Anna stopped leaning on the door frame and allowed Bates into the house.

'And I didn't particularly want to be woken, you know how much I love my sleep, but the fact that a deathly breeze was rattling not only the bed-sheets but my bones – I had no choice but to see where the wind was coming from.'

'I'm sorr…' Bates began to apologise before she silenced him.

'We'll have none of that, I was simply checking you weren't sleepwalking…or leaving me,' Anna said the last part quietly.

'Hey, and we'll have none of that either,' Bates replied. 'You know I couldn't leave you, simply getting called to Lord Grantham's service for an hour is like torture for me.'

'I know, I'm only teasing, you silly beggar,' Anna sighed amusedly as she stroked his arm. 'So, what's wrong?' she asked, as they descended the stairs hand in hand.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Minutes later, Bates was lying back on the bed as Anna sat up and delivered to him her final verdict.

'Well, it looks like you have flu, but we'll need Doctor Clarkson to confirm it,' she said pityingly. 'But I don't think you'll get the day off to rest, what with Sybil and Mr Branson returning tomorrow and the service already being short seeing as Mr Carson's back has been causing him some problems and frankly Thomas just being lazy.'

He nodded. It had been exactly what he had suspected.

'Are you sure you don't want me to sleep downstairs, just in case I pass it on to you?' he asked her. At this, she swatted his shoulder.

'Of course not, you silly man, I want to stay with you until I'm sure you've made your recovery,' she exclaimed irritably. 'Your nobility astounds me.'

'My nobility is usually for your own good,' Bates muttered as he covered himself back in their bed-sheets. Once she had also submerged under the covers, he found her waist and placed an admittedly sweaty hand around it.

'Goodnight, Mrs Bates,' he sighed tiredly as he arched his aching back to drop a lingering kiss on her unexpecting lips. He saw her smile in the dim moonlight that leaked through a gap in the curtains.

'Goodnight, Mr Bates,' she said playfully before returning a lingering kiss.

He was ill, there was no doubt about that. However, as he closed his eyes and felt the warmth of his wife's body against his fingertips, a smile spread across his face.

They had found happiness.


	2. Chapter 2

'**Illness' was only meant to be a one-shot, but I rather like the idea of it so have decided to add more chapters. Please review if you enjoy, and if not, thankyou for reading anyway!**

From what seemed like seconds after he had closed his eyes, the sharp call of the cockerel confirmed it was five in the morning, and he needed to be getting up for work.

Slowly sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. He felt awful. A strong, pulsing ache rattled one side of his forehead, and his bones felt as fragile as glass. It was going to be a long day.

He tapped Anna on the shoulder, their regular routine(Bates had since learned that Anna was not in any way a morning person, and awaking her too abruptly was a dangerous and potentially fatal move). She groaned in wasted protest, before sitting up, and wordlessly getting out of bed to dress. She never spoke within the first ten minutes of her day, another habit in which Bates now understood.

Once they had washed and dressed, they ushered themselves out of their cottage and began their walk to work. It was usually a pleasant affair, as it gave Anna some time to finally talk.

'How are you feeling this morning?' she asked.

'Not brilliant, but I'll manage,' he replied. She looked at him concernedly.

'I know you'll manage, and that's what worries me. Don't overwork yourself today, if I had my own way you would be at home, resting in bed.'

Bates smiled.

'Would you really?' he questioned mischievously. 'Because if you're anything like me, work would be a damn sight harder without me…'

'What are you trying to suggest, Mr Bates?' she giggled with a raised eyebrow.

'I'm just saying that I don't think I could manage going to work without you,' he smiled honestly.

'I do wonder how I managed before we met, and when you left,' Anna said. 'When you left, I'd always think of writing to you, finding some way to contact you, but then I'd always decide against it.'

'Your letters would have certainly cheered me greatly, but would probably make me want you even more, if that was humanly possible,' Bates sighed. He always hated talking about life before Anna. As far as he was concerned, he had been reborn, left his dark past and was now in an amazing future.

'It doesn't matter,' Anna said cautiously, sensing Bates' reluctance to bring up the topic. 'What happened in the past stays there.'

Their walk continued normally, until they were almost at the back servant's door leading into the quarters.

'Agggh,' Bates let out a low moan of pain.

'John? Are you feeling alright?' Anna said nervously. She never called him John at work, infact, she had only just got into the habit of calling him John at all, so Bates knew she was genuinely worried.

'I'm fine, I'm fine, a pain just shot through my back, but I've had worse,' he grimaced.

She took hold of his hand and looked at him with her big green eyes.

'Remember what I said before,' she warned. 'Don't overwork yourself.'

He nodded to signal he promised he wouldn't, gave her his sideways smile reserved only for her, stroked her back affectionately and then entered the back door.

They sat down at the deserted table. It wasn't even six o'clock yet, however, they were soon greeted by Mrs Hughes.

'Good morning you two,' she said, as she swept out of the room as soon as she entered. A few minutes later and everyone was sat at the table, noisily discussing different topics.

Bates' head clambered. He could feel his temperature rising, but instead simply shifted uncomfortably in his seat and chose to ignore it.

BRIIING

The shrill cry of Lord Grantham's bell hit Bates like a bullet.

'I won't,' he said to Anna before she could even open her mouth to remind him not to overwork himself.

xXxXxXx

'Good morning, m'Lord,' Bates tried to sound cheerful as he entered Lord Grantham's dressing room.

'Ah, Bates' he smiled. 'I was beginning to wonder whether you heard me call, is everything quite alright?'

'Yes thankyou m'Lord. I've not been feeling to well of late but it shant stop me from doing my job,' Bates said. One thing he always liked about Robert was the fact that he was his friend. He knew that he cared, and not just about him, but about the staff at Downton. They were lucky to live in such a house where the upstairs actually felt some compassion for the downstairs.

'I hope you recover quickly,' Lord Grantham said. 'Anyway Bates, I've been meaning to ask you something.'

'Go on, m'Lord,'

'You see…No, it's probably nothing anyway, and as far as I'm concerned it's none of my business…'

M'Lord, please tell me what you wanted to ask me, I shall try and take on board whatever comes my way.'

Although he said it casually, Bates was worried. What had he done now? Was his job in jeopardy? Would he have to give up his and Anna's little cottage, find work elsewhere, possibly force Anna to leave her own job if nothing else in the village was available…

'Alright then, Bates, but I would appreciate it if you only did not discuss this with anyone else.'

'Please, go ahead,' Bates urged, his nerves making his already pale and sweating face gleam.

'Alright then. I was simply wondering…do you think that this is the end?'

'What?' Bates almost spluttered, his eyebrows raising drastically.

'Oh, I don't know, I said it was silly…but you see, on the last of Tom and Sybil's visits, he showed me a piece of work by an Irish poet called W.B Yeats…I don't know why I am telling you this, but it suggested that the end could be coming…don't you see it?'

Bates stood there, on the spot, completely silent. Why was Robert asking him such a philosophical question, when it wasn't even seven in the morning yet? In fact, why was he up and awake so early? Why did his opinion matter about something as complex as the end of the world? Realising he was stood on the spot with his mouth slightly ajar, he composed himself.

'I don't know m'Lord, I suppose it is tricky to tell. What makes you think this?'

'I don't know, just everything really…first there was the Titanic, then the war, then the flu...and now I can't sleep at night worrying as to whether Ireland really is a safe place for my youngest daughter and her socialist husband to be…I just wonder how can the current state of the world get any worse?'

'm'Lord, times of late have been tough, yes,' said Bates, bitterly thinking about Vera, about his arrest, about his misfortune. 'But there's only one thing that we can do, and I think we're going to see ourselves out of this.'

'And what is that?'

'To have faith and hope that things improve.'

Lord Grantham stood there for some time, worrying Bates as he brushed the shoulders of Lord Grantham's walking jacket.

'I suppose you're right,' Lord Grantham finally sighed before turning to smile at Bates. 'I'm sorry for troubling you with such a meaningful question…but you know how I've been since the war, it's changed me drastically.'

'I understand completely, m'Lord, after times as hard as these, I'm sure you're not the only one left feeling that way.'

'Thankyou Bates, once again I apologise for my…strange behaviour of late. It just seems like the world around me is changed so vastly and I cannot quite keep up.'

'Understandable of course, m'Lord. Would you like me to send that letter to the Keenan House in Corby about your request they visit?'

'Yes. Now I'm off for a walk, I shall be back in a few hours. Good day, Bates,' Lord Grantham said, and he left the room.

If Bates' head was pounding before, it was almost exploding after that encounter. How peculiar. Why Robert Crawley had chosen to address something as deep and dangerous as the end of the world with him, he had no idea.

Deciding to simply shrug it off and forget their conversation, Bates limped back to the servants quarters slowly as his muscles grinded together dully.

xXxXxXx

By lunchtime, Bates was absolutely exhausted. If he had been feeling bad this morning, he was feeling practically _awful _now. He sat down in his regular seat next to Anna at the table, trying not to reveal to her his huge discomfort.

He failed instantly.

'Mr, Bates?' she said worriedly. 'Are you feeling alright?'

'I'm fine thankyou Anna, just a bit tired…' he trailed off through his gritted teeth. He was now drenched in sweat, yet he was so cold he had begun to shiver thoroughly. He had no chance of denying his illness much longer.

'John,' Anna said in a low, comforting voice. 'If you're not well, just tell me. And I don't want to bruise your ego, but you look dreadful,' she said, half teasing, half serious.

'What can I do?' he asked desperately. 'I know now that I really should be resting, given the state I'm in, but we're already short of sta…'

Suddenly, Mrs Hughes cut across him.

'Mr Bates?' She said questioningly. 'Are you feeling alright? Dear God, you look terrible. Why are you not at home resting when you're like this?'

'Forgive me, Mrs Hughes,' Bates apologised. 'I thought that I had to complete my duties as a member of staff today as Lady Sybil and Mr Branson would be dining here tonight, and we're already so short of staff due to Mr Carson's back problems.'

Mrs Hughes paused for a few seconds and examined Mr Bates. There he was, sat before her eyes next to his wife, shivering as though the servant's quarters were inches deep in snow, sweating as though the desert sun beat down his back and looking whiter than a sheet. She admired his determination.

'How very…gallant of you, Mr Bates,' she said sceptically. 'I should know by now not to put it past you to consider everyone else's wellbeing over your own. However, I do not feel that you should be working today, at all. Would you kindly agree with me to go home and get some proper rest until you recover?'

Bates was trapped. To his left, he met Mrs Hughes' stern glare, to his right, he saw his wife raising her eyebrows at him, giving him a look as if to say 'what are you waiting for? Go home!'

Sighing, Bates held a hand up in defeat.

'Alright. I'll go. Are you su…'

'Please,' Mrs Hughes said forcefully. 'There is no point in torturing yourself further.'

He sighed, and then patted Anna's knee.

'I'll stay up for when you get back in later,' he promised quietly. She smiled quickly, and nodded to show that she had registered and accepted what he said.

'I should hopefully be back tomorrow,' Bates said as he walked towards the door, but not before he released a shuddering sneeze.

After he had gone, Anna and Mrs Hughes both shared a look of exasperation with each other.

Too noble for his own good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Planned to get this up earlier, but didn't save the original draft so had to write it all again! Thankyou for every single read, it is much appreciated.**

Bates lay quietly in the peace and calm of the house, evaluating the events that followed him returning home. He had been greeted by Dr Clarkson soon after he arrived, who informed him he had influenza, but that the worst of it had died down. There was an instruction, however, that Bates was not happy to obey.

'You'll have to stay in isolation until your condition has improved,' Dr Clarkson said casually as he was putting on his hat and coat.

'..What?' Bates stammered.

'You'll have to stay away from your wife if you don't want her to catch it. Indeed your case has been rather fierce, and we wouldn't want to pass it on to Anna, would we?'

'No,' Bates agreed half-heartedly. 'You're right. Is there anything else?'

'No, that should be all. If you can, please let me know when you're feeling better. Good day, Mr Bates.'

As the door shut, Bates felt rather irate. He was not going to enjoy being able to go near his wife. He still found it so bizarre and slightly scary that he was not comfortable doing anything without the presence of Anna. They were always together, and whenever they parted, Anna was always at the back of his mind. He thanked the Lord every night for the most beautiful, honest woman on Earth that lay opposite to him. She'd made his life so much better. And is scared him that they were so reliant on eachother now. The thought of losing her drove him insane. How strange it was to think that he had lived most of his life not knowing who she was, breathing, living, without her crossing his mind.

He also knew that she wasn't going to be happy about the isolation. It was just the night before she flat-out refused to let him sleep downstairs. It appeared that tonight however, sharing their marital bed was not an option.

He didn't want to take the soft way out, but he could think of no other method. Sighing, he sat down at the rounded table in the kitchen area, found a pencil and some paper, and began to write.

_Hello, _

_You're probably reading this as you came in, and you've come straight upstairs to bed without even shouting me to check up on me. I appreciate your kindness. _

_I promised I would stay up and wait, but it seems my situation has made this promise fruitless. Dr Clarkson called round as I came home. He told me I must be isolated, which therefore means that I cannot be near you. I don't want to pass this ruddy thing on to you. _

_So, I am downstairs, asleep on the sofa. You probably didn't notice me, as I am after all, the master of disguise. Or possibly you were just so worried about my help, which again, I appreciate. _

_I'm going to find it as hard as you are, but I have thought it through and although I don't want to, there are much harder things in life than still being in the same house, just not sharing a bed. I know that it just won't be the same without my brilliant presence, but we shall just have to deal with it. _

_I'll see you tomorrow, as I __**will **__be going in to work, regardless of my health. I have an important matter to address with his Lordship. _

_Goodnight darling. _

_Love, John. _

He knew it was probably a bit much, but he had no idea how to tell her they couldn't be together without breaking his isolation sentence. He went upstairs, placed the letter on her side of the bed, made it as obvious as possible, and then descended the stairs again.

As the clock chimed ten, he knew Anna would be home within an hour or two. He made his bed on the sofa. It was strange, he thought, that they almost were not going to purchase one. They already had a rounded table with chairs, but Anna liked the idea of having a sofa. It was also very big, a stroke of luck on their behalf. The last sofa available in Ripon was a huge, almost bed like monstrosity that no other person would dream of having in their house. It was brown, and as wide a double bed, with flamboyant pink and green clashing pillows. Bates and Anna took one look at eachother, raised their eyebrows, and agreed to take it, as the shop-owner was willing for a small amount of money as long as the hideous thing was taken of his hands.

'Suppose it could always double up as a bed if ours breaks,' Anna remarked a short while afterwards. At the time, Bates supposed it was meant to be a flirtatious, cheeky comment on her behalf. Ironic how she was partly right, but not because they had broken the bed. Because he had been ordered by the Dr to steer clear of his wife and so forth had to reside in another room.

The bells at the local church chimed eleven. Anna would be home soon. Blowing out all of the candles and then tucking himself up tightly, Bates tried to make downstairs look as inconspicuous as possible. About ten minutes later, the door flew open.

Anna had arrived home. She shut the door quickly, and made her way upstairs, just as Bates had predicted she would.

Then there was silence.

Minutes passed. There wasn't even a called back 'Alright,' or 'Sleep well,'. Just silence.

An hour must have passed as the church bells chimed twelve. Bates was aggravated. He wanted to go upstairs, check on her, touch her, kiss her…but then his nobility got the better of him, and he mentally glued himself to the sofa.

He finally gave up as his eyes dropped and he fell into slumber.

PPPPPMMMMFFFF

Bates let out a muffled, shocked splutter as he felt a sudden weight drop onto his stomach. He opened his eyes.

There sat Anna, dressed in her night clothes, looking at Bates disapprovingly.

'I would laugh,' he said. 'But I expect it would hurt my freshly broken rib-cages.'

'John Bates,' Anna began. 'We have been married for four years. And I come home, to find this?' she held out in her hand his letter. Bates looked sheepishly at her. 'I came upstairs, and saw a letter, and I thought that you'd left me! And, it gets better! I read the letter, only to find I cannot sleep with my husband tonight as he is lying downstairs!' Bates was reassured to see that she was now smiling. 'I especially liked this line, what was it again? Oh yes,' she said, as she scanned the page. '_I know that it just won't be the same without my brilliant presence, but we shall just have to deal with it.' _

There was a pause.

'Did I mention I love you?' Bates said quickly.

'Yes, you did actually,' Anna grinned. 'And I love you too, you big softie. But can we not forget Dr Clarkson? I've always had a real…_talent_,' she emphasised as she stoked his leg 'for avoiding getting ill. Must be a gift,' she said as she shifted herself downwards from his stomach.

He knew what she was doing. He wasn't going to give in just yet.

'Besides,' Anna added as he grinned and noticed he wasn't quite ready to give up. 'I have needs. We've not had some proper time together all week. And we've never done it on the sofa before…'

He snapped. The temptation had become too much to bear. He sighed.

'It's not fair when you use your manipulation skills on me,' Bates said in mock protest. 'But, seeing as they work so well, I'm afraid it looks like I'm going to have to invite you inside,' he smiled as he lifted up his duvet.

xXxXxXx

They grinned as they looked at eachother.

'You, Anna Bates, are wicked. Disobeying Dr Clarkson, ignoring me, using force to wake me, manipulating me…the list goes on.'

'Mr Bates,' Anna said teasingly. 'You exaggerate.'

'Exaggerate, do I?' he chuckled. 'I'm not exaggerating when I say that I love you, and that you're the best thing that has ever happened to me.'

'Neither am I when I say the same,' she remarked. 'You never accept this, but you are the greatest man I've ever known.' She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. 'Are you feeling better?' she asked as a side-thought.

He thought for a while.

'I am now,' he said, cuddling her close.

Even if he had deteriorated, he would have felt better.


End file.
